Sandpaper and Silk
by Kendra Luehr
Summary: TDK/Sucker Punch Crossover. Joker x Babydoll. After being transferred to Arkham Asylum, Babydoll is horrified to be drawn into the web of the Joker's sly, deceitful ways. Will she fall prey to his mannerisms, or will she escape unscathed? Please R&R!
1. Sandpaper and Silk

**A/N:** CO-WRITTEN WITH GLASGOWSMILE. I write for Babydoll, and she writes for the Joker, so don't be confused by the conflicting viewpoints since roleplaying goes in a back-and-forth manner. I've been in love with this pairing ever since I attempted it many months ago on YT, so now a friend and I decided we'd try and co-write a fanfic for them. Also, this is obviously disregarding the lobotomy, so Babydoll was just transferred to Arkham instead. Hope you enjoy! :)

**CH 1: Sandpaper and Silk**

Hospitals. Injections. _Doctors_. Babydoll hated them all, and after being shipped from facility to facility, she was beginning to forget her real name and everything about her _true_ self. Why did these psychologists feel the need to pick her brain like she was some lowly, expendable lab rat? She admittedly couldn't recall the night of her sister's death, but that didn't mean she did it – she was innocent!

Staring blankly down at her hands, Babydoll barely even reacted when the doors to the medic van opened and revealed an orderly. "Welcome to Arkham Asylum – we're all mad here" he gibed, giving her a toothy, despicable grin that she immediately detested. "If you'll follow me, precious, we can get you all situated."

Wordlessly glaring back at the man, she flinched when he reached for her, but he motioned another orderly over and she was soon subdued. Screaming and struggling for all she was worth, Babydoll tried to prove once and for all that she wasn't some toy to be played with – that she was a human being who deserved _better_ – but her howling only seemed to amuse these men. Confused and disenchanted, she soon fell silent and her fake tears dried coolly against her cheeks.

Once they were inside an odd-looking room, the more perverse of the orderlies – whom she appropriately dubbed Pervert – commanded her "Strip down to your birthday suit, precious. It's time for your full-body exam."

Babydoll stared back at him in wall-eyed surprise, her hands subconsciously fluttering to her throat as she glanced helplessly from one man to the other.

The second orderly, whom she inwardly dubbed Skinny, nodded to her and coaxed "It's alright, cutie pie, just do as the nice man says. The sooner this is over with, the faster you can go on your break."

When Babydoll continued to stare, Pervert cheerily remarked "She ain't much of a talker, now is she? I'm sure once she gets into the swing of things, that pretty lil' tongue of hers will loosen _right _up." Now pointing toward the wall, he commanded "After you take off your clothes, go stand against that wall – make sure your back is facing us."

Angry and humiliated, Babydoll turned her back to them and began to haughtily disrobe. Lennox House and all the other facilities had _never _made her do something so horrid! What was the purpose of these disgusting, leering saps getting a good look at her body while she was alone and defenseless?

Once her clothes were on the floor, the blonde refused to meet their gaze as she about-faced and went straight to the wall. Holding her arms out as commanded, she gave a shriek when a hose was suddenly turned on and blasted her with icy cold water. The sensation caused her limbs to go numb, her teeth chattering as she heard the orderlies howling with laughter.

"Don't worry, sugar, this'll be over real soon – we're just washin' the crazy outta ya!" Pervert crooned, turning the hose on to a higher pressure as Babydoll was helplessly flattened against the wall.

Grinning, Skinny gleefully added "Just consider this a lil' hazing – our very own welcoming committee, if you will."

Finally finding her voice, Babydoll spat "How is this legal? Does my doctor know you're doing this?"

This naturally caused the two men to laugh yet again, Pervert condescendingly explaining "Beautiful, your doctor _encourages _this kinda shit – in fact, it was his idea!"

With a dry sob, Babydoll closed her eyes as the water finally stopped assaulting her freezing body, her muscles tensing when someone unexpectedly threw a towel at her back. Not even bothering to thank them, she bent over and miserably wrapped the towel around her body, her pigtails dripping wet and causing water to run into her eyes.

"Get dressed" Skinny commanded, now pointing back at her clothes. "We're gonna take you to the rec room now, where you can meet the other patients."

Nodding wordlessly, Babydoll swore revenge as she bent over her garments and angrily began to re-clothe herself.

The rec room was just as drab, ugly, and unfriendly as the rest of the place, and as Babydoll was paraded into the room like a tourist attraction, she tried not to meet the other inmates' gazes since they seemed just as derisive (if not more) of her than the orderlies.

"Everyone" Skinny announced, "looks like you've got yourselves a new friend. This little cutie's named Babydoll, so I want you all to make her feel welcome. I'm sure you all know what kind of attention _that_ requires." With a dark chuckle, he pushed Babydoll forward and she nearly tripped due to not wanting to be close to anyone, her dark-rimmed eyes wide and fearful as she beheld the motley crew around her. There was a fat, birdlike man in one corner polishing his monocle, a redhead who was hunched protectively over a book of puzzles, a woman who was – _green?_– and draped delicately across a couch and, the most curious of all, a man with horrible scars that crisscrossed up his cheeks like ropey tracks. His eyes were dark and sinister, and he somehow seemed another world apart from these other inmates – he was unlike anything she'd ever seen, and for that reason Babydoll was suddenly ill at ease.

Clutching her change of clothes close to her chest, the blonde ignored everyone's accusatory glances as she slowly made her way over toward the only available seat...the one inconveniently positioned by the scarred man. Apparently nobody _else_ wanted to sit by him, either.

With a deep breath that she desperately tried to mask, Babydoll slowly sat down and gave him a surreptitious glance out of the corner of her eye. Why did she have the distinct feeling that he was going to hurt her? That he might take whatever it was in his hand and ram it down her throat? Shuddering at the thought, she visibly scooted as far away from him as possible and picked up a magazine, pretending that she was entranced by the Hollywood Hogwash as she occasionally spared the man a cautious glance.

At first glance as those dark eyes traveled over the blonde with the pigtails, the Joker suppressed a chuckle from that marred mouth. He was already in a vendetta kind of mood, what with having to deal with this morning's little incident with the staff when they hauled him in for the routine, hum-drum boring daily physical assessments. The nurse who pried his mouth open was damn lucky it was just her tongue he bit off, for the Joker would have kept going and maybe bit into a cheek as well if he wasn't torn away from the screaming woman.

Smirking as though the petite blonde could read the sinister thoughts that whirled over and over in his depraved mind, he slid off the ledge of the window he was perched on, then swaggered over to the petite young woman. Even without the purple suit he wore, he could make the Arkham orange pajamas buttoned high up to his neck look intimidating, that smug grin touching the corners of his unpainted lips and his dark eyes, still uncharacteristically passive, looking cold and brooding as ever.

Running his tongue along that marred mouth, perhaps a habit, or because he was getting excited about something, he grinned at her, showing off an impossibly straight row of yellowed teeth. Those dark eyes narrowed into slits as he stood there for a moment watching her, fixated on those bright blue eyes and a dark chuckle escaped from deep within as he shook that head.

"You gonna, ah, stand there eye-fucking me all day, hmm?" he intoned, that voice somewhat nasal as he squinted at her, peering at the blonde from the side with one eyebrow raised expectantly. He nodded slowly when she wouldn't answer, figuring she was just like the rest of all of the crazies, and chuckled almost sinisterly as he drew nearer towards her. "I know, I am ah, pretty and all, but I'm not as pretty as this city, and it's even _more_ beautiful when it all comes crashing to the ground, _burning,"_ the Joker gloated, a deranged giggle escaping as he brought those large hands up into her face for added emphasis. He wanted a reaction; she was just sitting there looking at him like some doe-eyed, dumbfounded moron. Snorting dismissively, he gave her a dour look, then jerked a nod at her, closing in on her until he was practically touching noses with the broad.

"You might prove interesting and useful," he concluded as he looked her over once more, licking at the corner of his mouth slowly, those muddy brown eyes flickering upwards as though pondering something. "Got a name?" he asked, then he leaned in suddenly, eyes shifting left then right as though to make sure no one was watching as he brought that twisted maw right to her ear. "I might decide to keep you around and spare your life, if you deem yourself worthy, cupie doll," he finalized with a lowly hiss into her ear, then latched onto her shoulder, ruthlessly pulling her closer.

"You got any scars, kiddo? It looks like you are reaaaally interested in mine, perhaps you like 'em," he whispered gruffly, and dug his fingers into her shoulder now. He let up on her just a bit, but was still too close for comfort. He wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible as he honed in closer, their bodies pressing against one another. The Joker wasn't a sexual being really, he just wanted to make her sweat, to make her know that _he _ran the show around here and she was just the new kid in town on his turf. Joker didn't take kindly to strangers or anyone for that matter, so he would let anyone know what was his, and nothing was for the taking by any means. Even if it was some remotely attractive, blue-eyed, doe-looking woman, especially that.

"Would you like to hear how I got my beauty marks? How about this, sugar doll, you tell me your story and I might cut you a break and tell you the famous tale on how I got mine," he snarled into her ear, and before he could say one word, a much bigger hand was laid upon his shoulder, ripping him away from the little blonde doll he was having the pleasure of chatting up.

Although Babydoll's gaze was focused on her magazine, she could sense without looking up that the strange man was approaching her. Grip subconsciously tightening about the pages, she finally braved a glance and cringed when she realized he was glaring at her, his hands on his hips and his body so tense that it appeared as though ...he were ready to pounce. Bewildered by his "eye-fucking" comment, she looked helplessly from side-to-side, then, realizing that he definitely _was_ addressing her and her alone, she returned her gaze to his and frowned. Blue had often made crude remarks to her as well, but this was different somehow. He seemed more..._sinister,_ if that were possible.

Before Babydoll could even think to reply, she jerked backward when she suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with the madman. Blue eyes wide and unblinking, she stared back into the dark depths of his insanity and held her breath, her fingers now gripping the magazine so tightly that the pages sliced into her skin. Not even reacting to her bleeding appendages, she cringed at his words and wordlessly glanced off to the side. Perhaps if she ignored him he'd walk away?

But alas, this was not to be, for the clown prince began whispering in her ear about how she could be of use to him, her eyes squeezing tightly closed as she attempted to lean away from him.

Still straining to be as far from the man as possible, Babydoll remained mute (as was customary when she was in uncomfortable situations), a soft whimper escaping her lips when his idle chatter quickly escalated into a threat. She didn't mean to stare, she _didn't!_ Why was he being so touchy about an innocent mistake? She was new, so wasn't it _natural _for her to stare at her surroundings?

Unable to tell the Joker this, Babydoll instead pressed herself further against the wall, only to wince when his closeness caused their bodies to meld far too snugly together for her comfort. Blue had often molested her at Lennox House, so her initial reaction was to rear back and scratch at his face. Fortunately for her, she was rescued by an orderly she hadn't seen before, her eyes narrowing as she wordlessly scooted toward the far end of the couch.

"Let's go, Patient #0479," the guard commanded as he began to drag the Joker, who was now beginning to protest and laugh, away from the girl.

"Oh, come on! It's not like I bit her tongue off or anything! Well, not _yet_ anyways, but you never let me have any fun here! None at all!" He began to complain, but was giggling as they dragged him through the doors and down the hall, and everyone in the room could hear him laughing like a maniac and arguing his point. "And I still want a window! I mean a _real _window! It's not like I can see anything out of that tiny little rectangle high up above in my room, although it's a lot of fun when I put my mattress on the floor then use it as a trampoline to jump and look out at my city!" he growled, as they wrestled with him and shouted at him to shut his mouth.

"Be quiet clown, or it's the padded room for you!"

Babydoll clapped her hands over her ears to shut out his obnoxious jeering, her eyes now squeezed tightly closed as she could hear the Joker being locked away. She'd felt the urge to spit at the clown prince as he'd been carted off, but she'd fortunately decided it'd be in her best interest to do nothing of the sort.

"You ok, honey?"

Glancing toward the sultry female voice, Babydoll realized it was the green woman and meekly nodded.

"He's a sexist pig – I'm not surprised that he targeted you at all" she remarked, inspecting her nails as she rolled her eyes. "He _always_ enjoys knocking women around just to show he _can,_so don't let him get to you, alright, sugar? If you ever need protection, I'll be more than happy to come to your rescue and take down that good-for-nothing prick. He destroyed the life of my best friend, so I owe it to him to give him as many beatings as humanly possible." With a wry smile, she leaned forward and added "The name's Poison Ivy, but you can call me Pam, I suppose."

Still unable to speak, Babydoll settled on a nod before taking a deep breath. None of the other crazies had bothered to intervene, so she decided that with Pam she could at least relax. She obviously didn't mean her any harm, and although she obviously had some sort of vendetta against men, she still found the redhead to be the friendliest of the patients thus far.

Pointing to the clock on the wall, Pam announced "We'll be having dinner in a half hour, so today may just be my lucky day... If the ass shows up to dinner, of course."

Babydoll shuddered. The idea of seeing the Joker again, and so soon, admittedly didn't settle well with her at all.

Seeming to sense this, Pam gave her leg a pat and cooed "Don't you worry, honey. Like I said, I'll be there to keep the pig at bay."

Babydoll smiled weakly, but somehow she was unappeased.

The cafetorium was full of dull chatter, and Babydoll grasped her tray tightly in between her fingers as she searched for a table. Each seat had an occupant who seemed more deranged than the last, and she was truly beginning to wonder why they thought _this_ particular establishment was her best fit.

As she was contemplating this, she heard a cheerful "Hey, honey, over here!", her head whipping to the side just in time to see Pam waving brightly.

She couldn't understand why this woman was so happy, considering where they were, so without cracking a smile, Babydoll reluctantly moved over and had a seat in between Pam and the fat bird-like man.

"How do you do, my good girl?" he inquired, to which Babydoll forced a smile and shrugged.

"She's shy" Pam explained, rubbing the blonde's arm in an almost maternal fashion.

"Ah, I can imagine" the rotund man returned. "A place like this can quite easily render one speechless, I would think."

Staring down at God only knows what on her plate, Babydoll poked experimentally at it before she heard Pam give a growl. Immediately looking up, the blonde paled when she noticed the man from earlier being paraded into the room. Everyone seemed to part like the Red Sea as he approached, and she found that she honestly couldn't blame them.

Seeming to sense Babydoll's distress, Pam urged "Now you just take it easy, alright, honey? He can't hurt you. Not with us here."

"Pamela is quite right" the birdlike man assured her. "He wouldn't _dare _pass security just to get to you."

Babydoll, however, was unconvinced. Meeting with the man's cold eyes, she quickly dropped her gaze down to her tray and swallowed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Pam demanded, thus causing the blonde to quickly look up. "This table is for _worthy_ criminals, clown, not wannabes with a penchant for greasy hair and gaudy costumes."

Gripping at her napkin, Babydoll began to nervously shred it in her lap, for she hadn't anticipated on Pam actually drawing the Joker's attention. This could _not_ end well...

Unable to resist a challenge, the clown prince naturally moved forward as if to attack, but he was soon apprehended by a bunch of incompetent orderlies. After the staff had wrestled the madman to the ground, and after they'd beat the laughing lunatic almost to a bloody pulp (much like he enjoyed when his favorite plaything in the entire whole-wide universe had done to him many times), and after he was put back into solitary confinement for the Joker's little outburst in the cafeteria, the man with the Glasgow smile sat against the wall, humming off-key to himself as he rapped the back of his skull against the cold surface. His shoulders were shaking with mirth as he giggled gleefully, musing over Pam and Ozzy protecting that little "Babydoll."

Scowling with an infuriating snarl that rose deep within his chest, he began to shift on his haunches, his eyebrows furrowing with more fury, which almost immediately changed to amusement again. He really loved himself, but hugging himself 24/7 wasn't really what the clown had in mind for therapeutic treatment. He really could have gone without the straitjacket for the umpteenth time that week.

Chuckling throatily to himself the Joker began to jerk his arm away from the confines of the straitjacket, emitting a loud pop from the joint as he dislocated his shoulder. Obviously no one informed the incompetent orderlies of the madman's queue of specialties, such as freeing oneself when he wasn't busting noses or cracking skulls (with the water pails when he refused to shower with the other males); this was just another skilled yet menial attribute he basked in at Jerry's Funhouse of Fruits.

Still laughing lowly, that marred mouth cracking into a sinister smile, the Joker fumbled with the buckles underneath, loosening one strap and then the other, until he was lifting the jacket up and over his waist and wriggling, twisting, before finally pulling it over his head. He shook his head like a dog, his greasy mane whipping back and forth, then he licked at his lips as a feeling of pure adrenaline overtook him.

Another one of the blunders the idiots of Arkham failed in were keeping pens, hair pins, and any other small tools that the Joker kept a watchful eye on, just something small the morons would drop from time to time and it was a ticket to get out of boredom. The Joker could escape at any time if he wanted, but why give them all the credit for a job well done? He just assumed since they sucked eggs at their job that it was better if they got caught, rather than himself. After all, they were somewhat responsible for the mass murdering clown and it was their heads if another mass breakout were to result once more.

The Joker bent the hair pin in half, then jammed it into the electrical key slot, shorting out the circuit as he watched the door buzz once. Usually this would cause the barrel of monkeys to come running, but they were so absorbed in their own noisy electronic devices that they carried around, pressing at the buttons frantically and cursing when they didn't get the imaginary ball into the hole or hoop, that they didn't miss the criminal slip by them as he began ambling along the corridors of the asylum.

Now it was time to play his favorite game: eenie, meenie, miney, mo, and just which cell was the lil' ho hiding behind? he idly wondered with a smirk curling over chapped lips, licking at them slowly, then pointed airily at one of them, and decided door number three would probably contain the blonde with the pigtails and big pretty brown, hazel, green, whatever the fuck color eyes she had, which _always_ stared back at him vacantly. He _hated_ those fucking eyes. He swore if he saw her give him that vapid look again, he would slice them out of her skull and wear them around his neck, toting them around Arkham as a personal trophy.

Laughing mirthfully now, he began fiddling with the lock on her door (hoping his guess was accurate) and jiggling the hairpin in the slot, the light went dead and he let himself into the cell. And sure enough, she was huddled on the bed with the same clueless look about her as she just simply stared at the man minus the greasepaint, yet, he was still same dark man, and he was now looming over the small blonde girl.

"Well, looks like it's my lucky day after all, isn't it?" He smiled at her, then made himself comfortable on her cot, sitting as close as unnerving as possible with his thigh touching hers. He let out a raspy laugh at her obvious discomfort from his sudden invasion of her personal space.

"Oh, you don't have to worry your heh, pretty lil' head, Blondie Bear, I assure you I am ah, _not_ a rapist, so you can relaaaax about that," the Joker droned, still smiling smugly at the hopeful horrified look on her face at that underlying statement.

The Joker glanced about the room, taking in his surroundings as he silently mused to himself, noting how her furniture was also bolted down to the floor just as his was in his old cell. Funny, they only did that for really, _really_ crazy people. Perhaps his lil' baby doll had some dark skeletons in her closet, after all. He favored the left scar as he turned to face her once more, giving her a crooked grin before cocking his head at her inquisitively.

"Sooo, you don't have that much to say… Which I find rather odd, so either you have something to hide like most people do, or you are a very, _very_ boring individual, and we cannot have that if you are going to, uh… Hmm, be some form of amusement to me, now very well can we, my little baby doll?" he admonished, grinning shark-like before placing a rough, calloused hand in her soft blonde hair and caressing her deliberately with each hushed word he spoke. "I want to know more about you… Who are you, hmm? I know everyone in this city, like I said before, and I don't remember ever seeing your face, and I _know_ I wouldn't forget a face like yours." He laughed then, his eyes dancing with incredulity as he pressed his lips together, suppressing that great urge to break out into hysterics. The Joker calmed down finally, his chest rising and heaving, dark eyes settling on her light-colored hues blinking back at him, when he abruptly clutched onto her knee and gripped it firmly. "Tell me your name, cupcake and ah, why are all your lovely lil' things bolted firmly into place, hmm?" he queried, raising a brow, smiling crookedly at her before letting out a small laugh. "Y'know," he licked at his lips slowly, "they only do that to the really craaazy people, and I should know. …Not that I'm a crazy person or anything, but being in and out of Jerry's Nuthouse of…_Freaaks_, I would know a thing or two about how they run things around here, so the whole," he flicked at one of the thick strands of hair which cradled her face, "cupie doll act is only gonna get you so far with me so you best start spilling your guts to the real thing, sister, otherwise things might have to start getting..hmm…_difficult_ for you, and I don't think you want that, now do you?"

When she seemingly hesitated, perhaps stumbling on the words to answer with him out of intimidation or stubbornness, the Joker snarled and gripped one pigtail hard and jerked her towards his face, his hot breath enveloping her countenance as he sneered barking into that now obvious frightened face. _"Do_ you, now?" he nearly shouted with a low growl, then released her sharply with enough force so she tumbled backwards on the bed and nearly fell to the floor.

He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, sucking loudly on his scars before narrowing his dark orbs into lead slits, pinning the blonde and anticipating her next move as well as his. "Get up," he ordered tersely, his jaw solid and set in a firm line. When she didn't move her ass once more, he charged towards her and grasped her by the hair, finally hearing some form of sound come from that perfect puckered pout (which he wanted to cut with his favorite knife, make her bleed until she was drained dry, grasping, pulling on those ridiculous pigtails), his hands reached for her legs and he yanked them out from underneath her. Then he was falling on top of her, wrestling her to the ground and pinning her onto that concrete with his full body weight.

Oh, if only he had a knife ,how much fun he would be having right now as his laughter began to rise only higher, an eerie crescendo of manic hysteria flooding the room, that marred mouth splitting wider as he threw his head back and crowed loudly like a crazed hyena not letting up on the blonde who was surely struggling by now. Good, he liked that. He loved when they put up a fight, and better yet when they clawed a little too.

Just then he remembered he did have a knife of sorts, and he reached down into his trousers, the horrified look growing on the blonde's face as she was probably thinking he was definitely grabbing for his cock. Didn't he not just get finished saying he wasn't a rapist? That wasn't how things worked. Furious with that thought, he drew his hand back and struck her across the cheek, definitely hard enough of a blow to leave a nice red welt, his lips working into an irritable line and now he was slowly easing the homemade device into mouth, working it between her lips, looking into those vacant wide pools staring up at him and something else took a hold of him completely. He couldn't do it. He couldn't cut her and it infuriated him even more.

He only wanted to slice that perfect mouth open to shreds, watch her bleed all over the floor, smell her coppery essence while it enveloped his senses and immersed the cell, but he couldn't cut her soft lips. Wait, were they soft? The Joker hesitated for a moment as he began lowering his own marred mouth, touching his lips to hers, and finding that they were indeed soft. The kiss was chaste at first, which didn't last long considering the type of man he was. When his needs did take over him he was never gentle; he was like a rabid dog. He soon found himself biting, sucking, and nibbling on the velvety flesh, groaning into her mouth as his own body betrayed him. He realized he was now beginning to hammer urgently against her petite form, his lips still fused to hers and growling savagely as he rode her through their clothes. His eyes fluttered momentarily, his wet appendage now sliding into her mouth, deliberately at first, then he thrust his tongue into her throat, choking her, with his lips still crashing against hers. He thrust his hips against her pelvis, melding them firmly as he ground furiously against her. His large hands gripped at the orange pajama top, inching it up and over her stomach, the flat of his palms smoothing over the exposed skin as he laced their legs together, entwining them and letting out a loud beastly growl from his marred mouth that still moving eagerly over hers. He wasn't waiting for her correspondence, or caring if she wondered what in the fuck he was doing on top of her attacking her lips, when moments ago he was dead set on slicing them into ribbons. He was also wondering the exact same thing, and that is when he stopped all of this foolishness immediately, just before he was about to take that knife and cut her shirt off instead of cutting her into pieces like he _should_ have been doing. The Joker pulled away quickly, glared heatedly at her, then with a scowl rolled off of the blonde, righted himself, and swept a hand through his greasy tresses, leaving her on the floor dazed and confused, and probably angry he wasn't finishing up with this new dumb blonde tart. Good.

"This never happened," he said firmly, then began walking towards the door, glancing over his shoulder towards the girl, wishing he could see that devoid, emotionless stare now, as he let out a raspy chuckle then wiped at his mouth. "You drool, and you need to work on a few things, lil' baby doll… Not insinuating anything, though." He laughed cruelly, then shot her a wry smirk before he opened the door and left her for the night. "I don't even like sex."

Babydoll had been sitting on her cot when the intrusion came, her knees drawn up toward her chest and her eyes wearing the stunned, ever-innocent expression of bewilderment. She barely even had time to move before the Joker was before her, his dominating presence forcing her to accept that he was in charge, and that she wouldn't be able to call out for help.

And yet, why _couldn't_ she call out for help? This beast wasn't currently armed, of that the blonde was certain, but as she opened her mouth to scream, he sat down alongside her and began prattling on about how he wasn't going to rape her. That declaration naturally made her blue eyes snap up to meet with his, for she knew how men (and women) in institutions were. Every last person was forced into a permanent state of perversion, for being locked up and forced to call yourself your only friend _did_ things to people. …Strange, horrible things that caused them to crave just a smidgen of human contact, even if it had to be taken by force. And at Lennox House, things had _definitely_ been taken by force.

Shuddering at the memories, Babydoll assumed the Joker interpreted her revulsion to reflect on his presence, for he seemed to scoot in closer to ensure maximum discomfort. Not even dignifying his question with a response, she only reacted when he began to stroke her golden pigtails. He was demanding that she tell him his name…that she reveal why the doctors thought she was so damned _crazy,_ but the blonde was having absolutely none of it. Back at Lennox House, she'd discovered that if she played dumb long enough, the orderlies would just leave her alone and move on to the next form of entertainment. But somehow, this man – no, this _monster_ – seemed different.

And how right Babydoll was, for within moments he was threatening her, yanking her roughly by the hair so that they were nose-to-nose, her eyes wide as she stared mutely up into his dark, abysmal pools. There was something cold and unfeeling about his obsidian irises, and for a moment she felt a twinge of pity for the man. Somehow he must have sensed it, for no sooner had this emotion arisen within her than she found herself airborn, a soft _'oof!'_ escaping her lips as her rump collided harshly with the cold floor.

Rubbing at her sore bottom, Babydoll glared up at the Joker and felt her stubbornness arise when he commanded that she get up. _No_ one told her what to do; not even Blue, who was long gone by now, and was more than likely rotting away in prison where his _own_ flesh was being groped and scratched. Karma was life's greatest reward.

Smiling slightly at the thought, Babydoll hadn't even heard the Joker's second command until she found her hair in his grasp once more, a surprised howl catching in her throat when he yanked her roughly forward. Throwing her arms forward as if to protect herself, she gritted her teeth and yelped again when he shoved her body to the floor. There she was helplessly trapped, her legs kicking about as she began to beat uselessly against his chest. In no time he had her wrists pinned above her head, her eyes now an icy, electric blue as her fury began to mount. She was tired of being helpless…she was _tired_ of being taken advantage of!

As if in answer to her angry thoughts, she watched the Joker reach toward his pants and began to panic, for this was always how her visits with Blue began. But no, instead he withdrew a makeshift knife (which was somehow less frightening to her), and when relief poured forth from her eyes, she received a shocking blow across the cheek that left her reeling. It was almost as if she were seeing stars, for her vision was hazy and she had to shake her head to see straight.

Groaning slightly as she blinked to refocus, Babydoll tensed up when she felt the Joker's rough, uneven lips brushing against her own soft ones. The contrast of sandpaper against silk made her cringe, yet their differences seemed to intrigue him since he sought her mouth again, only this time in an act of untamed savagery. Bucking with a show of obstinance, Babydoll's immediate response was to scratch and claw at his head and neck, hoping to somehow wrench him free of her writhing form. Her wild response only seemed to instigate his lewd behavior, for the Joker nipped and nibbled at her trembling lips until they bled, his tongue gliding across the expanse of flesh and tasting her coppery essence.

Opening her mouth to denounce him, Babydoll gave a strangled cough when the Joker inserted his slimy, disgusting tongue into her mouth, tears forming in her eyes as he gripped at her hips and began to harshly dry-hump her through the fabric of her pants. His arousal was grinding harshly against her womanhood, yet she was neither aroused nor a willing participant. Closing her eyes, she willed him away even as he lifted the harsh, scratchy cotton of her blouse, yet he stopped before he could discover she wasn't wearing a bra.

Finally opening her eyes, Babydoll's expression was both a mixture of relief and bewilderment as she watched the Joker hastily retreat, his scarred mouth twisted in what appeared to be self-loathing as he spat at her about how it never happened.

Good. Fine by her.

Before Babydoll could even think to reply about his "drooling" comment, he was already gone, her head falling into her hands as she listened to his dull, hollow footsteps that reverberated throughout the hallway like an ominous drum.

**A/N:** Since this fandom is dwindling, we don't expect to get much feedback, but it's ALWAYS appreciated. Why? Because it fuels our inspiration and makes us write FASTER. Promise. ;)


	2. Therapy Begins

**A/N:** CO-WRITTEN WITH GLASGOWSMILE. Hope you enjoy chapter 2! :)

**CH 2: Therapy Begins**

Still sore from the Joker's administrations, Babydoll was rather sulky the next morning when Skinny came to fetch her for her group therapy session. As she expected, he didn't even say anything about her busted lip or black eye, for he more than likely assumed that his buddy Pervert had been the one to rough her up. Irritated by his lack of concern (was _no_ one safe in this damned facility?), Babydoll made herself go limp so that Skinny had to do most of the work in dragging her to the rec room.

"C'mon, ya stupid bitch – I know you can walk!" he groused, jostling her arm to the point of pain.

Yet still Babydoll refused to pick up her feet, her glower only deepening when he finally was able to dispose of her with a rough, inconsiderate shove that sent her nearly sprawling to the floor.

Looking up toward the group of inmates surrounding Dr. Pritchard, the blonde released a barely audible sigh through her nose and cautiously stepped forward. She could see the Joker out of the corner of her eye, but she naturally refused to acknowledge him.

"Ah, good morning, Babydoll – so glad that you could finally join us!" the middle-aged woman returned, her greying red hair pulled back so tight that she almost looked as though she had a facelift. Now pointing toward the (naturally) empty seat beside the Joker, she added "If you'll just have a seat, you can start finger-painting what you're feeling like the rest of us."

With a weak smile (which she almost immediately lost), Babydoll miserably glanced at the open canvases and finger paints with disdain. What was she, _twelve?_

The Joker hadn't slept a wink, and how very well could he after sneaking off into that insufferable, yet intriguing woman's room with the golden pony tails that framed her face? That angelic, baby face he still longed to carve and ruin...but for now, he would settle for "finger-painting."

Sighing irritably and rolling those dark eyes skyward, he mumbled at just how ridiculous this situation was. In fact, he couldn't remember a sillier situation he'd ever found himself in, other than when he was a kid in school and forced to participate in class activities such as this. And on that note, did he even go to school? _Had _he? Was it important at this point? Snarling, he reached across the table, briskly with enough dexterity to make the other occupants flinch and gasp at the quick fluidity. Their petrified looks of stone only earned a loud crow from that disfigured maw as he smiled smugly to himself, then went about dipping a paw into those ugly-ass toxic liquid plastics, and smearing them onto the blank white page.

The Joker didn't expect anyone to open their mouths at him for anything, not even a bit of conversation at that table (except for maybe Pamela Isley), and sure enough, the redhead was once again rattling off about her boring schemes to him as though he actually gave two shits about her or her bush. Schemes about how once free from the Asylum, (she used a professional label) her plans were to blow up the two chemical plants of Wayne Enterprises, and ironically enough those towers were bringing harm to her own precious plants.

Splendid.

"And you are going to help me, although I am not helpless I assure you, Joker-dear," she smiled at him, her cold emotionless smirk coy and just as smug as her words. Then she dipped her fingers along the paints, and began to make a picture... of a woman, beside a tree in an Amazonian forest, but the Joker simply rolled his eyes, snorted and laughed. He could honestly care the fuck less what the hell she wanted from him, or was painting pictures that were obviously of herself. What was this anyways, were they a bunch of fourth graders? And besides all that, he worked alone. Was she _dense?_

"Pammy, I ah, think you are forgetting that I don't do favors," he sang with incredulity, which almost sounded like a melodic nursery rhyme from the depths of the underworld. "Everyone does favors for me," he grinned, shark-like and Pamela's pert mouth down-turned into a hateful-scowl and the red-head was just about to open up her inlet and smart off to him, when everyone was alerted to a commotion. The Joker's dark eyes shifted in the direction of the double doors of the day hall towards the guards who were gruffly leading around, to the Joker's surprise, an actual persistent "Babydoll," who seemed to be struggling against their gruff ministrations.

How…_adorable._

They continued to scream at the girl, chiding her when she wouldn't listen to their commands, and the Joker pressed his lips together, holding back that bubbling mirth that was rising within, those urges to laugh at how Blondie Bear was being man-handled by other men, and then something else began to manifest inside of him, which was causing him to grow increasingly more agitated. It better _not_ have been jealousy. He was only with the broad for one night, and they didn't even do anything. He never fucked her, and hell they still had their clothes on, and jealous and the Joker didn't mix; however, he didn't like anyone touching his "things."

One guard grabbed the yellow silken hair, twisted it, and hauled her over to the table, nearly slinging her into the chair. The guard met with the Joker's dark eyes, whose were at this point locked onto his, as he slowly moved to lick his chapped lips and give the man a crooked grin.

"I could have just walked on over there and fetched her myself, y'know, to save you some trouble so you could get back to your other freaks you seem to like to beat into _submission"_ he announced with a drawl, as though it were the most casual thing in the world, then giggled a bit, the orderly only glaring daggers back into those abysmal black pits.

Babydoll tried to mask her surprise when the Joker actually came to her defense, but she assured herself that he wasn't doing it out of the kindness of his heart. His gaze had almost retained a sort of…_possessiveness,_ and although some women would be flattered by such a reaction, the blonde was rather irritated that he acted as though he owned her.

Returning his dark gaze with a scowl, she ignored his comments about "enjoying" their little encounter and pretended to be engrossed in her painting. She was smearing the entire canvas with whatever paint she could get her hands on, thus resulting in a massacre of colors. In a way, it represented how she was currently feeling: lost, overwhelmed, and alone amidst a dark sea of turmoil.

When she heard the Joker's laughter her scowl only deepened, her patience wearing thin as she found himself wondering why he enjoyed her animosity and discomfort so damned much. Was it _that_ amusing to hurt others?

"To hell with you today," Skinny snarled, then began to fasten restraints on Babydoll, handcuffing her in such a way which only allowed her to move her hands a good five inches apart. The Joker's eyes wandered to the metal around her wrists, then to her always sullen-looking face and he scowled. Did she think the goddamn, rodent infested world owed her something?

She was so..._boring._

"I am all for bumps, bruises and cuts, but ah, that is no way to treat a lady and she is clearly a lady. Well…last I checked she was," he remarked cynically, then winked nastily at the guard, eluding to his lil' rendezvous with the blonde, if he wanted to even call it something like that. The man quickly caught on, then pushed Babydoll to the side so he could glare at the clown some more. It was so funny to the Joker because this was all he really could do, unless Skinny wanted to hit him (which he did); most of them were so weak it was all they could resort to ever doing with a man like him, because they had no control or will power – just like the Batman – and the Joker _wanted_ Skinny to wallop on him in front of all of these good people.

"And if you ever break out of your cage again, psycho, I will be there to put you back in, but I can assure you that you won't like the results," the orderly threatened, his jawline tight as the Joker merely smiled, that sardonic smirk cracking at the corners of the marred mouth at such complete _boldness_ on Skinny's part.

Just before things could become more heated, that doctor, the annoying one who kept asking questions about the Joker's past, came around Skinny and placed a hand over the man's shoulder, cupping it firmly and leading him away from the table.

"I think you have rousted the patients enough for today," Dr. Pritchard spoke calmly, as she cast the Joker a surreptitious glance out of the corner of one eye, wondering if this was all a rouse, until she saw the Joker was actually interested in the finger-painting activities and the calm of the storm was finally under tow. Sighing and pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she ushered the orderly from the day hall with a wave of her fingertips and turned her attention back to the table with the others.

For the most part the Joker seemed to actually be content with the menial arts and crafts session, so with a sigh of inward relief, Pritchard began to make her rounds to the next table, leaving the Joker with the green-skinned woman, the man who sported a monocle, and the newest addition to the Funhouse, Babydoll.

A woman without many words, the Joker took note, however, that her expressions held different tales behind those deep set eyes, and he only wanted to get closer into that mind and find out just what it was that made the blonde with the piggy-tails tick. This time, if she refused to answer his questions, Pritchard or not, he would slice that ethereal countenance into ribbons.

"So," the Joker prodded, sucking on his lower lip in what seemed like aggravation, but perhaps that was just some form of habit. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked, grinning widely at her, some obvious menace to that smile as it stretched even farther across his jaw. The Joker was undoubtedly referring to their lil' run-in last night, with him on top of the squirming soft flesh, which he would have gladly sliced into and bled dry right there on the dirty floor; however, something else occurred. He just wanted to make damn sure nothing like that was ever going to happen again.

When she refused to answer him again, he bit back a giggle, his mirth rising and his rage continuing to grow with that damn twit's persistence. Sighing exaggeratedly, an eyeroll and clank of his teeth, he reached across the table, nearly knocking over Babydoll's fingerpaints in the process.  
>"Say there, ah, Babydoll?" He coined the new nickname for her, on the account of her babyish features and golden pigtails which drooped around her heart-shaped face. "You ever play…<em>Rorschach?"<em>

Flinching when he reached across her personal space, Babydoll leaned far away from his hand when he nearly knocked over her paint set. With a glare of distrust in his general direction, she decided to play along for the moment and shrugged her shoulders. "No" she coolly began, "I can't say I've ever played Rorschach…I'm not really familiar with that character, anyway."

Immediately holding her tongue, her pretty features scrunched up in distaste since she'd realized she'd let her guard down. Of all the time they'd ever spent together, this was definitely the most words she'd ever uttered to him.

Not wanting to wait for his most likely dangerous game, Babydoll sought Dr. Pritchard's gaze and was rewarded when she took the hint and approached them.

"And how are we doing over here?" she asked, her hazel eyes crinkling around the edges as she smiled down at the pair.

"Fine" Babydoll muttered, now surrendering her painting for the doctor's ever-present perusal. She didn't even seem bothered by the troubled expression that crossed her physician's features, her blue eyes gazing up expectantly as she waited for the diagnosis.

"Are you feeling lost, Babydoll?" Dr. Pritchard inquired, now ignoring the Joker as she gazed intently down at the young girl. "This painting really speaks to me… It's telling me you need help."

_'I'll bet you tell that to all your patients'_ Babydoll glumly thought, yet she shrugged her shoulders and sent a cold look toward the Joker. "No, I'm just feeling that this facility needs to take better care of its patients. Maybe up the security a bit? A girl should be able to sleep without fear." Now folding her arms, she leaned further back in her seat and stared straight ahead, thus indicating that the conversation was officially over.

If the Joker hadn't been so absorbed in the obvious fun from the finger-painting excursion, his eyes surely would have popped out of his skull at the words muttered from Doll's mouth. In fact, he figured the blonde for a deaf mute for a while there on the account she never spoke. Not once since he first locked eyes on that vacant stare of hers, from what he could recall, did she ever say anything to him. But here she was, now finally talking to him, and not only that, but the other words that came from her mouth were almost an act of defiance towards Pritchard.

Oh, just how amusing, not to mention how _fun_ she was going to be, after all!

As though waiting for some sort of cue for Pritchard to move to the next table, which that annoying nosy pest of a woman finally did, the Joker suddenly snatched Babydoll's hand, grasping onto it firmly, casting her a dour look of warning that if she even dared to open her mouth again, that he would gladly rip her arm from its socket. He couldn't deny that it would have been fun to tousle with the blonde once more. Hell, this was the most fun he was having since he almost blew up Wayne Enterprises, which ironically was the reason that landed him back in Jerry's Craphouse Of Crazies, so Dollface was keeping him busy almost enough to the point that he didn't start cracking skulls.

"Well, at least you know some things, don't you?" he asked, eyebrow raised in question and cracking a crooked smile over marred features. "Rorschach isn't just a character, but a man behind those ink blot tests the doctors show you and make your mind see some sort of picture," the Joker explained, words deliberate, his hand still wrapped firmly around Babydoll's as he spoke to her. "Your mind processes whatever you are seeing when they flash the cards in front of your face, like ah, a puppy dog for example," he grinned broadly at her, excitement almost brimming through that ghastly countenance, even minus the paint. That voice with hypnotic qualities continued on as dark eyes kept her pretty brown ones pinned.

"Then the doctor will go and write it down on their little notepad however your mind sees it, so sometimes you don't see a pretty butterfly or pretty doll. Y'see, maybe you _do_ see blood or some kind of massacre behind the real picture." His eyes flitted down towards her painting, different colors incorporating with one another and making muddy brown reds, and he smirked almost knowingly, his eyes returning to her heart-shaped face once more.

"What happened here?" Joker questioned tersely, rubbing at the scars along the inside of her wrists, his expression serious before the clown gave a derisive snort, then made as if to look over his shoulder, eye contact lost for a fleeting second then closing back in on her as he leered, his upper body nearly hovering over the table now like they were confiding in some sort of big juicy secret.

If he was going to get answers she should start yapping away like she was earlier, because the Joker was starting to feel eyes on him, burning into the back of his skull, and that alone was enough to make him want to retaliate with a swift punch to whomever dared to even hone in on his personal space. Scowling quite irritably, and letting out a sigh of exasperation, he finally released Babydoll's wrist, not being gentle with his ministrations, those eyes rolling skyward in annoyance with the obvious psychiatrist looming over him like some unwanted predator. Yes, if he wasn't so inclined to not rouse the table, he would have hauled off and punched Pritchard square in the jaw, woman or not, he was that irate with her presence invading his.

Babydoll pretended to keep her interest on Dr. Pritchard, who every once in a while would send them a surreptitious glance, but her false reverie was rudely shattered when she felt the Joker wrap his hand about her wrist. Turning about with a frenzied whip of the body as though she might actually _attack,_ the blonde only murdered with her eyes as she glared up at the clown prince's fiendish face.

Nobody touched her without her permission.

_No one._

But instead of ripping him limb from limb like her features clearly desired, Babydoll remained mute and slack, her eyes turning upwards to meet with his as she began to listen to his odd speech on ink blots.

Finally, she spoke up "Is there a point to this life lesson, clown? Because I'm really not interested...", but that's when his hand stroked along a familiar section of her wrist.

Scowling when he ran his fingers along her scars, she tried to jerk her wrist away from him, but he held fast to her like glue. "Let me go" she commanded, her voice surprisingly calm.

Surprised when the Joker actually did as she asked, Babydoll soon came to the realization that it was merely because Pritchard was now acting as his shadow. Bemused and worried that the doctor had heard everything, the blonde then turned her head and prevented all possible eye contact.

"What did I tell you about personal contact with the other patients, Joker?" Dr. Pritchard asked the clown sternly, her arms crossed as she gave the clown prince a look a mother would give their child if they were misbehaving; that look of a mixture of disappointment and frustration, and this only earned the woman a loud laugh from that marred mouth of the Joker.

Joker lifted his shoulders into a light shrug and smiled cordially at the woman. "We were just holding hands was all, I mean Jerry _did _say that I was to bond with the other patients, and what better way to do that then get real nice and close to your pals, hmm?" His tone was caustic as he squinted one coal black eye at her, waiting for her retort, and sure enough she had one. They always did.

Dr. Pritchard was neither amused nor thrilled with the clown's actions and simply sighed, her mouth drawn in a tight line as she observed the scene, the blonde girl who seemed withdrawn about something, and the madman clown who thought the situation laughable (which was no big surprise, considering his character).

"Okay, this session is over and we can begin again tomorrow. Why don't I show you back to your room, Babydoll? And Joker, you can go with Skinny – he needs to make more friends," she smirked back at the Joker, then put an almost protective arm around the petite blonde as she ushered her as far away from that unpredictable beast of a clown, feeling an almost motherly need to protect the girl from the madman.

Keeping her gaze firmly on the floor, Babydoll listened to the two banter back and forth, her nails subconsciously digging into her thighs when she heard that the session was over. Did that mean the Joker would seek her out again? He did before...

Barely even taking note of Pritchard's hand on her shoulder, Babydoll ignored the clown prince's gaze as she rose and followed the older woman, realizing that she was once more becoming withdrawn and mute. It wasn't that the man scared her – not really, anyway – but something about the way he acted as though he controlled her made her uneasy. She'd had to deal with an overbearing stepfather for most of her life, so the oppressive nature of the Joker made her meek and furious.

Feeling Pritchard's hand against the small of her back, Babydoll barely even reacted when she realized she was being nudged into her small cell with the nailed down furniture. She wasn't out of her mind, so she wished people would stop acting so damned _sympathetic_ towards her.

When the door locked harshly behind her, Babydoll immediately dove under her bed and began to search for her hidden shank. If that damned clown decided to come back, she'd be ready for him this time...

**A/N:** Whew, done! This went by faster than I expected, so go us, right? :P And as always, feedback is much appreciated – thank you so much for reading! ;)


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